Immortal Love
by ChlocaCola
Summary: Abby and Edward confessed their love when she saved his life in Buenos Aires. Since then they have been happier than they thought possible. But what happens when Edward dies, leaving Abby alone to be swallowed by grief? Abby's struggle to live after her loss mixed with multiple flashbacks of better times takes the heartbreaking story closer and closer to its devastating conclusion.
1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note: This is my first fanfic so please excuse any mistakes or rough pieces of writing! Please take a few minutes to read this chapter and leave a review, it would build my confidence and encourage me to complete this story!**

**Disclaimer: If I owned Gallagher Girls, Abby and Townsend would already be married.**

Clear light filtered through the blinds and danced across Abby's face, gently rousing her from her peaceful slumber. Naturally, she stretched outwards, craving Edwards early morning embrace but her arm only found creased linen bed sheets. At first she thought Edward might be making breakfast or gone for a jog, he never was one for lie-ins. But then, with an agonising jolt, the realisation hit her. _He's gone_. Finding the next best thing, Abby snuggled up to his favourite suit jacket that she always folded under his pillow. He wore that jacket the most, so the traces of his smell were still there although they were faded. It was hard to explain the scent, though she'd often spent hours trying to place it. It seemed like a mixture of ripe limes, brand new leather and a sprinkle of cinnamon. His cologne and minty breathe also seemed to have seeped into the fabric. She'd try to resist sleeping with it, she really had, because the smells were becoming harder to pick out underneath the smell of her strawberry shampoo and Gucci perfume, but she couldn't help it. Out of all his remaining belongings, this is what reminded Abby of Edward the most. Propping herself on one elbow, she gently lifted the photo frame off the bed side table. Edward stared back at her with his bright blue, florescent eyes, smiling as if nothing bad could ever happen.

'Morning sleepyhead.'

Trailing into the kitchen, she slipped on Edward's pale blue shirt and buttoned it up before opening the fridge.

'I brought some eggs and bacon so we could make your favourite, Eddy.'

She didn't know why she spoke as if he would reply. Maybe she hoped, by some miracle, he would.

Ten minutes later Abby was perched on a kitchen stool, fork absentmindedly scraping the omelette around the Italian plates. Her physical body was in that kitchen where they used to dance to their favourite songs, but her mind was someplace else. Reminiscing the memories of them together. And she told herself that was the reason she jumped when she heard footsteps striding through her front hall, and not because she was becoming sloppy.

'Hello Abby.'

'Oh it's just you, Joe.'

In her mind, Abby denied the fact that she'd hoped Edward would stroll round the corner, sweat dripping from his temple after a long jog. But he was never coming back.

'You're eating double?' Joe teased, and Abby didn't understand what he was talking about until she followed his line of sight and saw another plate placed on the kitchen table top.

'No, it's for-' Abby stopped suddenly when she realised how crazy she would have sounded if she would have completed that sentence, but she figured Joe already knew what she was going to say. Why do you keep forgetting he's gone, Abby? She told herself. Joe's eyes were full of sympathy and sadness but Abby tried to look nonchalant as she slid the plate across the counter and replied, 'I was hungry. But you can have it.' Easing on to another kitchen stool Joe seemed to be weighing out each side of an argument in his mind, wondering whether he should mention something or not. In the end he must have opted to give it a go because he took a deep breath.

'Abby, it's almost been a year,' he hesitated, 'maybe you should-'

'No.'

'You don't even know what I'm going to say.' Joe quipped.

'Yes, I do. And the answer is no.' Abby stated firmly, trying to signal that the topic was well and truly over.

He sighed, obviously coming to his own conclusions that she wasn't backing down. Joe wanted Abby to move on. Not necessarily find a new boyfriend; he knew she'd never do that. But she ought to start socialising with the group again. Instead she locked herself in her house, isolated. He couldn't bear seeing her like this. Her eyes were no longer bright, her stance wasn't confident anymore and she'd lost the bounce in her step. But Abby could never get Edward out of her mind, let alone begin moving on. She would never treat him like some distant memory that's better left in the past, because even though he was gone, to her he was still here. His face was in the photo frames. He was recorded on the video tapes. Scent on the pillows. Collective knick-knacks from his greatest adventures from all around the globe placed everywhere in the house. And also in her heart. He will be forever.

Movement in the corner of Abby's eye snapped her from her reverie. Joe was easing away, towards the door, pity evident in his expression no matter how hard he tried to conceal it.

'I was just checking in to make sure you were okay. I'll be off now.'

Even to her own ears Abby sounded distant and small as she said goodbye.

Then she did what she'd been doing most days since he died. Escape into the bliss of sleep.

***15 years earlier***

'Here's to us, for completing our first mission together.'

'Cheers.' Abby announced, raising her glass to his and clinking them together.

The bar was buzzing with high class business men with their polished wives and billionaires sons living the high life. But Abby wasn't paying attention to them. She couldn't stop staring at the twenty one year old man, sipping bubbly champagne, next to her. She'd only known Edward Townsend for a few days, but she couldn't help feeling attracted to him, though she daren't admit it. Sitting next to him on the bar stool, she absorbed every detail of his face. Chiselled jaw. Defined cheekbones. Wavy black hair that took all her strength to resist running her fingers through. And those eyes-bright blue and shining. Not to mention he was British, so his accent was like honey to her ears. Edward side glanced at Abby, amazed that someone could possibly be this beautiful, and smirked when he caught her staring intently at him. Abby quickly snapped her eyes to her empty glass and blushed.

'Would you like another drink?' He offered.

'Are you trying to get me drunk?' She teased, flipping my hair slightly. Ok, she thought, I'm guilty of flirting. Shoot me. 'I'm only twenty, you know. This,' Abby lifted her glass, 'is illegal.'

Edward laughed. There was no noise more heavenly than his laugh.

'Since when do you follow rules, Abigail?'

'Let me think…' Abby feigned concentration, biting her lip and looking upwards as if literally searching for answers in her mind. Again, he laughed, and if the Gallagher Academy hadn't taught her how to stay coordinated in hostile (and flirtatious) situations, she might have fallen of her stool. 'I can't really remember a time when I _wasn't _rules optional.'

'I thought I might be a bad influence, but you're a rebel all in yourself.' He smirked and his eyes twinkled in the dim lights of the bar. A flicker of nerves and hope tickled Abby's insides as she wondered whether he might be flirting too. She quickly disregarded the thought and realised she'd taken an embarrassingly long time to answer. Who was this girl? She was meant to be Abigail Cameron, unfazed by any man, much less one as attractive as Edward Townsend. So she tried to be that girl again and answered, 'always have been. Always will be.'

**I know, I know-I'm a meanie, but I really wanted to write this plot line. This is my first story and in a few years I'll most probably cringe at it, but for now I hope you enjoy!**

**~ChlocaCola**


	2. Chapter 2

**Author's Note: So my writing kind of sucks and I should go back to my day job but please review and give me some praise and improvements please?**

**Disclaimer: If I owned Gallagher Girls, do you really think I'd be writing fanfics? No, me neither.**

A buzzing noise awoke her. She fought against the invisible force pulling her from the numbness of sleep, desperate to return to the dream that had just recalled the events of fifteen years ago. But it was too late. Reality was setting in and her efforts were useless. How she wished she could be back in that bar, giggling at Edwards remarks and downing shots until four in the morning. Celebrating their first of many successes. But everything had changed now. Curiously, she stalked into the lounge and found the source of the strange noise.

'Hi, Rach.' Abby greeted, trying to sound enthusiastic at having a visitor, although she was slightly annoyed she'd waken her. 'How did you get in?'

'Spare key.' Her sister replied with a smile that seemed too wide to be genuine. Abby stared at the vacuum in Rachel's hand, silently demanding an explanation. 'I decided to come and clean around the house, thought you could use some help.' Rachel, always worrying, thought Abby.

Abby nodded, not sure of what to say. Abby had been pushing everyone away, becoming even more out of touch with the group. She had no clue what they were up to, and had no idea how to start a conversation. It shouldn't be like this, they're sisters. What happened to them? Rachel didn't seem to have the same problem as she rattled off all the housework she'd done and Abby wondered how long she'd been sleeping. Yet again, Rachel was a determined woman and could work pretty fast when she concentrated. Abby shivered, suddenly becoming aware of the chill.

'Go pop something comfy on,' Rachel suggested, 'you're are on the rail in the laundry room because I washed them all but don't worry, I didn't wash-' Rachel stopped, wishing the pause hadn't been so sudden. She wasn't sure how Abby would react to Edward's name, she'd been careful never to mention it before, so she didn't add the fact that she hadn't touched his clothes. Rachel knew well enough that Abby wouldn't want Edward's stuff interfered with. After all, that had been the case when Rachel lost Matthew.

In the laundry room, Abby quickly rifled through the hanging clothes, trying to find her sweatpants and woollen jumper. She felt her fingers brush a familiar fabric and stopped dead. Shaking her head she reached out and clung to the material with trembling fingers, trying to deny the fact that this was real. Storming down the corridor, Abby burst into the lounge, startling Rachel.

'You washed this? Why the hell did you wash this?'

At first Rachel couldn't understand what had upset Abby, but then she saw jacket enclosed in Abby's fist and gasped. Rachel hadn't realised, it must have been in Abby's wardrobe for some reason and that's why she hadn't noticed it was Edward's.

Abby clutched the suit jacket so hard her knuckles turned white. She pressed it against her nose, and confirmed the fact that all she could smell was washing powder. It wasn't as if Rachel had washed all his clothes. And she'd only been trying to help, so Abby knew she shouldn't get so mad. But this jacket was special. It was his favourite and the one she slept with at night. It was the closest thing to Edward she had left. But now it may as well of been any random jacket.

'I'm so sorry.' Rachel repeated for the third time, 'oh my gosh, I'm so stupid. I didn't realise. I'm so sorry.'

She continued strings of apologies, but Abby barely heard her, she just kept mumbling, over and over, 'this was Edward's. This was Edward's. This was Edward's.' Abby's mind was a hazy fog, but slowly her thoughts cleared and when Rachel reached towards her to comfort and console her, she recoiled.

'Why do you interfere? I don't want you here!' Abby shouted, becoming angry. Rachel's eyes filled with tears, mostly because for the first time in over a year Abby was showing her emotions instead of being distant and dead and it was revealing how broken she was.

'Ever since his death you've been pushing me away, everyone away. We miss you, Abby.' Rachel pleaded, wanting her old sister back.

'I don't want anyone!' Abby continued, voice shaking. 'I only want him.' Abby's voice was growing softer. 'I want Edward.' Abby's was speaking to herself now, her voice barely audible.

This time, when Rachel stepped forwards, Abby stood still, tears streaming down her face as she allowed her older sister to hold her and stroke her long, brown locks.

Two hours later Rachel was gone, and Abby sat down at the office desk she hadn't so much as looked at in the past year. But now she had work to do. Rachel had dropped off a few reports that needed altering. CIA had some new protocols and procedures. Abby rifled through the paperwork that needed adjusting, counting how many sheets there were, calculating how much time it would take. A word caught Abby's eye. Argentina. Was this what she thought it was? She slowly pulled out a bundle of pages, fastened together with a paper clip. The title read:

'**Buenos Aires, Argentina: CIA and MI6 joint Operations. Operatives Abigail Cameron and Edward Townsend.'**

***14 years earlier***

Some say the Circle of Cavan is a rumour and that they never existed at all. Another theory is that the terrorist group splintered off and died out a long time ago. Others fear that they are building their strength, waiting for the right time to cause hell.

Now Abby knew which was true.

The preparation reports had told them it was a wannabe terrorist clan, claiming that they would destroy the world. And clearly they meant it when they stole a microchip containing blue prints for a nuclear missile from the NSA.

'Perfect opportunity for the MI6 and CIA joint operations,' the director had exclaimed.

Arrangements were made and it was finally declared; Abigail Cameron and Edward Townsend's task was to take down the suspected cell working in Buenos Aires, Argentina.

They'd both been delighted at the opportunity to work alongside each other again, though they were both too stubborn to admit it.

Heavy beams hung overhead. Towering shelves stood in uniform lines, stacked with wood chippings and metallic paint. In the middle of the maze of the industrial workshop shone a small metallic chip-locked inside a rusty blue tool box. Perfect hiding place; it fit in with the scenery and no one would suspect the terrorist organisation to leave the chip in such an accessible place. But Agent Townsend and Operative Cameron had discovered it almost immediately.

As Abby held the chip in the air under the spotlight of her torch, she mused over how ironic it was that something so tiny could hold data so powerful.

Enveloping the chip in her fist, they smiled at each other triumphantly. It was as easy as that.

Until they heard the footsteps.

The mission wasn't supposed to be hard. Get in. Get the microchip. Get out. Simple.

Only they should have remembered that nothing is ever as it seems.

So, here they were, two twenty-one years olds with barely any experience, playing hide and seek at a completely new level. Only both sides of the game were going in for the kill.

At least she had Edward by her side, Abby thought. In fact, scrap that. Abby wanted him on the other side of the globe, as far away as possible from the Circle agents that had begun to creep towards them like predators approaching their prey.

To start with, the pair hadn't suspected they were part of the ancient terrorist organisation that no one quite new the truth about. But one of the four agents had a ring engraved with an emblem-the symbol that represents the Circle of Cavan.

It was there way of showing they feared nothing and no one.

Abby recognised the crest from the book by Gillian's legendary sword at the Gallagher Academy. Edward knew from studies over the past year. The uncertainty and mystery of the Circle interested him, so he had begun investigating the group. And now that he knew they were actually real, he was determined to take them down.

'Any plans?' Abby asked Edward in a whisper, trying to hide her fear.

'Fight for our lives.' He replied monotonous, and Abby wondered if Edward felt as calm as he seemed.

What if she died this young? She didn't want to. And even worse, what if she lost Edward?

Pushing the scary thoughts away, Abby focused on more important facts. Like where they could take cover if the guns started blaring, or whether the agent charging towards her was going to punch with his left or his right fist first. And how Edward Townsend managed to smell so good.

No, not the latter, Abby thought as she parried another blow.

They were outnumbered, had less experience and were implanted in hostile and unknown territory. They'd be dropped into a lion's den.

And they were getting eaten alive.

Edward and Abby stood back to back, blocking punches and avoiding kicks. Lunging forwards, one Circle agent managed to slice Abby's shoulder with a switchblade and her palm spread open, releasing the microchip and sending it scattering across the floor.

Keeping the location of the chip in the corner of her eye, Abby continued to fight. One agent threw his fist in Abby's direction and she grabbed the bulky hand, twisted his arm around his back in an awkward and painful position before kicking him with all the strength she could muster, sending him flying into a pile of heavy crates. Then Abby kneed the second agent in the stomach forcing her to keel over so she could grab her in a headlock, effectively cutting off her oxygen until she fell unconscious.

While the other female agent crumpled to the ground, Abby sprinted towards the chip. Rifling through wood chippings and spilled keys, Abby finally found the chip.

Looking around, she observed the area-three unconscious Circle members, a lot of shattered glass, workshop objects chaotically dissipated, and-

Oh no.

On the far side of the long aisle, one agent straddled Edward who was struggling to escape. Blood dribbled from his temple and the Circle operative held a spanner in his beefy hand.

Desperately searching for a way to aid Edward, Abby frantically looked around until something caught her eye. She rushed over to one unconscious body, fumbled with the straps on their utility belt and ripped out a curved, gleaming knife.

Just as the Circle Agent lifted the spanner high above his head, preparing to deliver the death blow, Abby flung the knife in his direction and watched it as it spun end over end.

Blood sprayed across the cemented floor. The spanner tumbled from his hand. And the Circle Agent slumped to the side. Dead.

Without hesitation, Abby was barrelling down the narrow aisle, shouting orders for back up and paramedics down her comms units while she dodged forklifts and hurdled crates.

'Edward,' Abby knelt down beside him, voice filled with panic, 'Edward, are you okay?' Abby reached out and wound her fingers through his hand offering support and reassurance.

In response, Edward managed a thin smile whispered, 'Thank you.' He wasn't sure what to say, but the apology didn't seem enough. After all, she had just saved his life. But he didn't think about it for long, because he was getting distracted by her eyes again.

Her breathe quickened as he reached out and tucked a stray piece of hair behind her ear. His fingers left a tingling sensation on her skin where he stoked her cheek, and something other than adrenaline rushed through her veins. The only noise was the howling wind and the distant whirring of helicopter blades as the stared into each other's eyes, dazzling blue and stunning green.

Edward's head throbbed and he felt sickeningly warm blood trickle down his face, but he somehow managed to find the strength to prop himself up on his elbow. White hot pain shot through his skull and the blood pulsed louder around his ears, but he couldn't resist Abigail Cameron anymore.

Leaning closer to her, he tangled his fingers through her long brown locks and smelt her sweet breathe as their lips finally met.

Fire passed between them, and it was like a drug. They both needed more.

Abby lightly pressed her hand on his muscled chest while Edward's hands braced the back of her neck, and they savoured every part of the passionate kiss, every last drop.

Breaking apart, they stared into each other's eyes, seeing the love they felt raging in their chests reflected on the others expression.

Edward felt the need to express the feelings he'd bottled up ever since he met her a year ago, and although he feared to let Abby know in case it was unrequited, he couldn't deny it any longer.

'I love you,' Edward whispered, lost in Abby's beautiful eyes.

'I love you too.'

Finally, Abby thought to herself, as she smiled into another kiss.

**Hope you liked it! I re-wrote the Buenos Aires mission about four times, and this was the only one I was satisfied with, even though it didn't really amaze me. Anyway, please review! I would appreciate some constructive critisism if you have the time.**

**~ChlocaCola**


	3. Chapter 3

Abby hadn't been on a mission since his death. She couldn't. She had to be at his grave every Monday at 4:00pm. But today wasn't a Monday. Abby visited the cemetery that day because that day was special. The silent widow stared at the epitaph engraved on the black marble headstone, looking at the date and realised that the year of death could have been a lot different if she hadn't saved him in Buenos Aires fourteen years ago. Abby shuddered in a way that had nothing to do with the eerie fog that enveloped the secluded area of the graveyard.

When Edward Townsend died just over a year ago, he had two burial services.

In London, he had a very honourable burial, and many fellow operatives showed up to pay their respects. Some he'd worked alongside, others he'd barely spoke to. Even so, they all knew he was one of the best MI6 Agents that ever lived. Every one of those Agents with their crisp black suits and MI6 issued sunglasses stood shoulder to shoulder, with the same desire to be as successful as Edward Townsend and hoping not to share the same fate. It was all very professional and no emotion was displayed, everyone's masks were firmly in place. Agent Townsend had been granted a glorious spot in the Queens Secret Service Memorial Park, along with other operatives and soldiers that had died defending their country and queen with dignity and honesty. But as his casket was lowered into the ground, nothing about the affair seemed rewarding.

However, on the other side of the world, there was a very different ceremony. Though it was small, it was definitely a lot more special. People surrounded a small headstone, and although his actual body wasn't buried there, they could feel his presence. Friends and family crowded together, offering each other a reassuring hug, a tissue or a pat on the shoulder. Grief hit Abby in waves, pulling her under the icy currents until she wasn't strong enough to pull herself to the surface, and she was lost in the sea of depression. She was swallowed by sorrow, and it was suffocating her until she choked and burst into tears. This was it. She'd felt numb since he'd gone, but now that welcomed feeling was dissolving as the reality sunk in, and replacing it she felt an agonising pain in her chest that filled the hole Edward left when he died.

Back in the present, on that special day, Abby stood at the grave that was ten minutes' walk away from the house she'd shared with Edward. Abby felt a salty tear slowly slide down her cheek, drip off her chin and splatter against the gravestone. It had been over a year, but she was still here, not capable of moving on.

Joe had recommended going on a mission to help take her mind off it. After all, that was Rachel's immediate distraction when she lost Mathew five years ago. But Abby barley had any motivation to get up in the morning, so she had no objective of going in the field. Fortunately, when Abby had declined, Rachel backed her up. Rachel didn't want Abby going in the field in this state; it would end in a catastrophe. Joe hadn't pushed it any further.

People had always told her that it gets better, that the grief gets easier to handle. But Abby didn't agree. The pain was still unbearable; she'd just learnt how to control her emotions in front of other people. When they see Abby with her head held high and her tears held back, they assume she's moving on, that she's doing just fine. But she's not. She's convinced that every breathe she takes is pointless now that Edward wasn't there beside her.

At the beginning of the dark days Abby would stumble here, drunk with depression. She'd burst into tears, her knees would buckle and she'd crumple to the ground. Leaning against the headstone she felt as if she cried until she ran out of tears. Abby ignored the sympathetic looks off old ladies. She didn't care when teenagers who were trudging to the abandoned caretakers shed gave her strange, criticizing looks. They were already destroying their lives by taking drugs and smoking cigarettes in that run down hut at the back of the graveyard. Abby would block everything out, squeeze her eyes shut and imagine Edward lying next to her, humming into her hair.

She'd willed herself to be as strong as Rachel when Matthew had passed away, but Abby had found it impossible. After all, she didn't have a child to stay solid for.

Abby sniffed and wiped the tears off her face before squatting down and gently placing the scented flowers in the vase.

'Happy 36th Birthday, Eddy.'

***12 years earlier***

Spring, morning light drifted into the bedroom, illuminating the peaceful sleepers. Mumbling softly, they stirred and cuddled closer. Their interlaced legs were tangled with the bed sheets and they felt comfort in listening to each other's steady breathing.

'Happy 24th birthday, Eddy.' The woman finally broke the gentle silence. She rotated in his arms so she could rest her head on his chest. Gently kissing the top of her head, he smiled and stroked her luscious hair. He was so lucky to be blessed with a woman as perfect as Abigail Cameron.

They lay like that for a while, Edward playing gently with her hair and Abby lightly running her fingertips along his abs, creating random patterns. The couple were completely at ease in each other's company and they cherished precious moments like these.

The pair had been together for two years, ever since the near-catastrophe in Buenos Aires. Although Edward suffered a head injury, they supposed that it's true when they say 'every cloud has a silver lining.' Because now they finally knew the truth that they completely loved each other even though it had taken a near-death experience for them to admit it.

Edward leant against the headboard and Abby straddled his waist. She smiled at him before leaning forward and giving him a long, slow kiss. Edward lay in just his underwear and Abby wore some laced lingerie that she'd brought to give Edward a _special_ treat.

As they embraced, Edward thought that it only seemed like yesterday that they'd sat in the bar after completing their first mission together. She'd had a cocktail in her hand and confetti in her hair, and without wanting to sound cheesy, he admitted to himself that he'd felt a connection straight away, like they were made for each other. Love at first sight if you wanted to be dramatic about it. But that's what it was. Edward Townsend had always loved Abigail Cameron, and she had always loved him.

Edward cupped Abby's beautiful face in his large hands and said, 'I know that I'm meant to be the one receiving the gifts as it's my birthday, but…' he pulled a tiny blue box from under his pillow, 'I brought you something.'

Edward flipped the box open and Abby gasped when she saw the most dazzling ring her eyes had ever witnessed sitting on a bed of velvet.

'Since it's my birthday and all, I thought this was an appropriate time to ask as you have to do whatever I want,' he smirked, but then his face turned determined and he hesitated before saying, 'and what I want,' his words were almost a whisper now, 'is for you to marry me.'

He reached out and brushed Abby's hair behind her ears, holding her teary gaze.

'Yes,' she replied, breaking into a smile, 'Of course, Edward. I'll marry you.' She said those last words as if trying to help with the processing method, because at the moment she was having trouble believing that the man of her dreams had just asked her to become his wife. Sliding the ring on her finger, she admired the jewels and felt like the luckiest woman in the world.

'A beautiful ring for a beautiful woman.' Edward said.

They kissed again, and this time the sensation was full of promise and excitement for the future.

'So,' Abby started, 'now it's time for your first birthday present.'

'Oh, I have more than one.' Edward mocked surprise.

'U-huh.' Abby mumbled, kissing along his jaw.

'And what is this gift, may I ask?' Edward inquired, even though he was already sure of the answer.

'You'll have to wait and see, won't you?' She whispered seductively into his ear.

And let's just say that what happened next is classified.

**Love? Like? Hate?**

**What did you like about this chapter? What should I improve on?**

**~ChlocaCola**


	4. Chapter 4

**Author's Note: I'm not really sure what you'll think about this chapter. You might think the present day bits too boring and the flashback is too fluffy. Ugh, I don't know. Thank you for the brilliant reviews, they brighten my day and give me a confidence boost!**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Ally Carters brilliant characters, sadly.**

The paper was thick and smooth between her fingers. Abby looked at the date marked on the calendar. She knew what it meant. When she stroked the cool page with her thumb, her nail accidentally scratched it. Abby cringed. She hated that feeling. It was like how Rachel can't stand forks scraping on plates and how Joe gets nervous when the TV volume is on an odd number. It was one of those things.

Abby sighed and tried to push the date from her mind as she sat behind the counter with her cereal. She wasn't sure why she'd made it, because she was never hungry anymore. For a second she thought she was wearing one of Edward's shirts again, because it hung off her loosely. But it was hers. Her body was skinnier and more fragile. She was wasting away, inside and out.

Glancing at the date again, Abby nervously straightened a notepad that lay on the table. Abby was tempted to get out another book that was completely different to the one in front of her. But she wasn't sure if she should. It wouldn't feel the same without Edward.

Fiddling with a pen, Abby tried to distract herself, but it was no use. Her thoughts kept drifting back to the book. Unable to resist, Abby shuffled towards the gigantic bookcase that lined one whole wall of the open sitting area. In winter they'd cuddle together next to the blazing fire, a blanket thrown over them, hot chocolate's clutched in their hands as they fought off the bitter chill. But now Abby felt cold all the time. Nothing brought her any warmth.

The bookshelf was filled with British Classics and New York Times Bestsellers, not to mention highly classified books that could only be accessed with a retinal scanner. But the book she was looking for wasn't anything like that.

Reaching onto a high shelf, Abby slid off the selected book. It felt heavier in her hands now that the memories were more valuable.

Every year on their wedding anniversary, they performed a special tradition. Together, they'd spend the morning flipping through the pages of the scrapbook, yellowed and crinkled with age and usage. They'd laugh and joke and recite memories from the past. After that, they'd add photos and notes from the former year, expanding the collection. Eventually, the book would slide back onto the shelf, waiting in anticipation for the excitement that would be attached to its pages the following year.

Abby told herself that just because she was alone now, it didn't mean she couldn't rifle through the pages and recollect the memories. Maybe it would be good for her. Maybe it would lift her spirits. But as Abby studied photos and read comments, she realised she was right about one thing. It definitely didn't feel the same without Edward.

Instead of it being a joyous activity full of laughter and celebration, Abby felt utterly heartbroken as she reminisced better times knowing that she'd never feel that glowing happiness ever again. But she couldn't stop, no matter how miserable the comparison of her life before and her life now made her. She had to absorb every detail of every photograph, study every sketch and run her finger over each familiar piece of scrawl that Edward had written.

There were photos from a mission in Portugal (but with all the sunbathing and piña colada's it could pass as a vacation.) That time they'd had to look after the flouncy neighbour's dog that had a habit of biting shoes (including Abby's favourite stiletto's, but Edward had brought her even nicer ones, so it made up for it.) Another picture showed them holding a small baby, proud to be the Uncle and Aunty of little Cameron Morgan (although she also had a habit of biting things in her toddler stages.)

Suddenly, Abby has a thought. She wishes it hadn't popped up in her brain-but it was there now, refusing to be brushed away. What could she add to the scrapbook this year?

Nothing.

That was the answer. She'd sat around, drowned by misery, needing Edward to drag her to the surface so she could draw a refreshing breath of air. But he was gone. No one could save her now.

She felt like she'd let him down somehow and that he'd be disappointed she hadn't accomplished anything this year. But if she went back in time, she couldn't do anything different because she simply didn't have the strength.

Seeing a strip of silly photographs from a photo booth, she almost smiled. Almost. Abby suddenly wonders if she'd smiled since Edward _left_. Of course, she'd put on a cover. But it tugged at her face and wobbled. Even she could tell the smile looked too tight, too wide. Not one genuine smile had spread across her face, and definitely no laughter had erupted from her chest. Abby didn't even find 'White Chicks' funny anymore.

Flipping back to the front of the album, Abby studied the pictures from the happiest day of her life. Her and Edward's wedding day.

A tear rolled down her cheek and landed on the page, resulting in smudging some black ink. Abby tried to clear up Edward's delicate script, but it just made it worse. Snapping the book shut, Abby shook her head. Her instincts told her it was a bad idea to look through the scrapbook, why did she go and do it anyway?

***11 years earlier***

'How do I look?' the bride asked, nerves audible in her tone, 'is my hair curly enough? Or is it too curly?' Abby looked at her sister for reassurance.

Rachel's eyes literally shone and tears glazed her hazel eyes as she whispered, 'you look beautiful.'

Abby smiled back and it wavered as she tried desperately not to cry.

'Don't you dare cry, Abigail Cameron. I spent hours on your make-up.' Grace Baxter warned, but she was smiling broadly.

Abby stared into the vanity mirror, looking herself up and down. She began prodding her elaborate up-do critically and twirled the loose curls hanging around her face, but Rachel slapped her hands away muttering, 'don't ruin it.'

Butterfly's fluttered in her stomach, and Abby knew she would never recover from the embarrassment of being sick in front of everyone. And what if she stumbled in her heels or tripped over the hem of her dress? These thoughts made Abby even more nervous, and it must have been visible on her expression, because her sister held her shoulders steadily.

'Listen,' Rachel began, and she sounded like a parent giving orders, 'don't be worried. Everything will go perfect.' Abby tried her hardest to believe her.

Abby took deep breaths and glanced in the mirror one more time.

The nerves were unbearable as she stepped up to the heavy double doors, and if she hadn't felt that invisible string pulling her towards Edward she might have run away.

But as soon as the doors swung open and she saw Edward, the distress disappeared. She panicked slightly when his jaw dropped and eyes widened. Did she have toilet paper on her shoe? Oh no, what if she had lettuce in her teeth? But then Abby remembered Rachel's words, '_you look beautiful,_' and she realised why he looked so amazed.

Edward recovered his composure and Abby felt like they were the only two people in the room as she stared into his gorgeous eyes. Abby began to be annoyed with the pace of the music that forced her to walk so slowly, because she wanted to be next to him.

Eventually she reached the altar but still they weren't able to touch. _Stupid wedding tradition._ Rattling off their vows, Abby wondered if she were about to wake up from this wonderful dream.

'Until death do us part.' Abby repeated, completing her vows.

And not even then, Abby thought. No one could replace Edward. He was her soul mate.

Then the words, 'I do,' were said, and it wasn't simply a conformation, it was a promise. One that would never be broken.

**Hope you liked, please leave a review if you have time!**

**~ChlocaCola**


	5. Chapter 5

**Authors note: Trigger Warning. I don't want to spoil the story but if you're sensitive to self-harm then I advise not to read. So this is the last chapter, hopefully you'll like it.**

**Disclaimer: The only thing I own is the sucky plotline and the swivel chair I'm sitting on.**

Abby had hated a lot recently.

She hated the constant pain in her chest. Hated the fact she was so vulnerable. For a fleeting second, she'd even hated Edward for sacrificing his life for her. It was selfish, him leaving so easy and her being left behind to deal with her shattered heart.

In the past month, she'd even begun hating herself.

She knew it was wrong. She knew there were easier ways. She could talk to someone about it, but even the idea makes her cringe. This is the only way she can handle it on her own.

By cutting.

She'd only started a week ago. But now there was no going back.

She likes to know that she can control some of the pain that is with her constantly, tearing at her heart and ripping through her chest with burning intensity.

The cuts are ugly and she wonders if Edward would think she was ugly now too. Maybe it doesn't matter that he's dead, she convinces herself, because by now he might have left her anyway.

Unstable. Crazy. Weak. Unloved.

Abby carves those words into her pale skin, watches the blood ooze down her wrist, spiral round her fingers then land on to tile floor with a constant and repetitive drip, drip, drip. It stings, but she likes the feeling. It makes her feel alive.

Most of the time she's in a daze while she does it, not even realising how far she's gone-how much blood has spilt. Sometimes the world starts spinning, the light becomes too bright and her body slides onto the cool bathroom floor, welcoming the relief of blackness. But that's when the nightmares come. So really, there isn't any escape.

Staring out of the bathroom window into the black night, Abby listens to the constant drumming of the water as it fills up the bathtub. She wants a bath. She wants to try and wash away the bad thoughts. She wants to escape.

The water soaking her socks makes her realise the bathtub is overflowing, so she quickly turns the taps off.

Knife clutched in one hand, she climbs into the tub. The freezing water envelopes her and seeps into her clothes, making the fabric cling to her skin.

She forgot to turn to water heater on. She forgot to take her clothes off. But she didn't care anymore. She couldn't go back and change things. She couldn't go back and change a lot of things.

Carving two last words in her skin, she knew this was the end of it now.

The end of the cutting. The end of the pain. The end of it all.

Lowering herself deeper into the icy water, Abby imagines an alternate universe where she and Edward grow old together, loving each other always. Now there was only one place she could go to be with him again.

Red tinted water surrounds her face, and Abby feels quite peaceful. She liked this. The noises were muted, the ripples infront of her eyes distracting her thoughts.

Her lungs craved oxygen and her stomach felt as if it were about to burst. Abby's fingers twitched, tempted to sit up and breathe fresh air.

But she had to complete this last mission. She had to escape all this suffering.

She felt guilty for being selfish to the ones who loved her, especially Rachel. This would hurt them. Abby didn't want to hurt them. They wouldn't suffer as much as Abby had though. Maybe hardly at all, maybe they feel as if she died a year ago to this day, along with Edward.

She'd acted dead. She'd felt dead inside.

As a numbing sensation spread throughout her body, Abby drifted into welcomed darkness.

Her last thought was bright, blue eyes.

Abby no longer felt any pain. It was a relief.

***1 year earlier***

Chaos. That was the one word that sprung to Abigail Cameron's head.

Lights flashed, sirens wailed. Agents shouted orders, trying to organise a way to capture the Circle of Cavan agents that were rampaging the streets of New York.

The Circle had warned them that this would happen if they didn't get what they wanted. Abby knew that similar tragedies were also occurring in the world's main capitals. London, Tokyo, Paris. But what was the CIA meant to do? They weren't just going to hand over billions of dollars, a nuclear weapon and all the Circle Agents that were in government captivity. Then the world really would be over.

So, Abby thought, I guess this isn't the worst possible scenario, however bad it may seem.

Bullets shattered windows, screams pierced the air. Observing the area, Abby saw Joe taking cover as bullets sprayed his way. Rachel was perched behind a bin, shouting orders down her comms unit. Abby glanced down the street and saw Edward shoot down another Circle Agent.

Abby scanned the area, looking for any hiding Circle Agents that may be waiting to attack. Surely all of them must nearly have been taken out. The view was limited behind the bright yellow taxi Abby was squatting behind, so she decided to take better cover.

It was all very sudden. There were no warning signs except it got really quiet then really loud again.

A black van careered around the corner, skidding as it narrowly missed a parked Volvo. As the side door slid open, another load of Circle Operatives rained from the sky-parachuting out of helicopters and rappelling down the side of buildings.

Distracted, Abby didn't even realise that the figure leaning out the van was pointing a gun in her direction until it was too late. The trigger had been pulled, the gunshot was echoing down the street, soaring towards her.

Abby tumbled to the ground, but the direction and force of her movement seemed strange. And apart from a throb in her ankle and a scrape on her elbow caused by the impact on the concrete, Abby couldn't feel any pain.

Shouldn't bullet wounds hurt?

'Abby?' That dreamy voice called for her attention. She knew he was next to her, but she couldn't concentrate. She was in a daze. The spinning lights were disorientating her. 'Abby are you okay?' His voice sounded different, strained.

'Yeah,' she somehow managed to reply.

Suddenly she felt cold, the heat of Edward's hand cupping her face faded away. She wanted Edward, she had to find him. As the mist in her mind cleared and her brain started functioning again, it didn't take long to find him.

One glance at the body slumped beside her, and suddenly, everything made sense.

'Edward!' Someone screamed.

Suddenly, a woman appeared before him. A beautiful woman. For one fleeting second the pain ceased, the spinning stopped and his vision focused in on this woman's face. She looked scared. Edward didn't want the woman to be scared.

'Abby,' Edward mumbled attempting to sit up to embrace this woman for what was probably the last time. And just like that the agony returned. His eyes rolled inside his head, unable to focus. But although he couldn't see her, he knew she was still there.

Edward gripped Abby's hand as if it was a lifeline, and he guessed that in some ways it was. It reminded him his reason for battling against the darkness that would erase the pain, fight the numbing sensation that persuaded him to give in. It would be so easy. But if he reminded himself why he had to live, then he could make it through this. He tried to ignore the nagging thought in his mind that told him it was inevitable.

Abby stroked his hair, his arms, his cheeks. He craved to reach out and touch her soft skin too, but the blood pouring from his lower chest was sapping all his strength and the pain in his ribs was making it harder to breathe.

'Why did you do that, Eddy?' The words were barely audible over the sound of his drumming heart and the blood pulsing in his ears. 'Why?'

Why not? That seemed like more of an appropriate question. As soon as he saw that bloody Circle Agent begin to aim his gun in Abby's direction, he hadn't hesitated in tackling her to the ground and out of harm's way. The only problem was he'd been shot in the process.

It seemed ironic how they'd been brought together by Abby saving his life, and were about to be torn apart by him saving hers.

'I guess now were even.'

At least Edward had completed one thing; repaid all his debts.

'Only if you survive.' Abby's voice was soothing yet strained, as if trying her hardest not to cry. 'I can't lose you, Eddy.' Digging deep within himself, he managed to find the strength to reach up and stroke her cheek to wipe away the salty tears. His fingertips tingled. She shivered.

'I love you Abigail Cameron.' Edward whispered, his voice hoarse and weak.

He could hear many things; shouting orders, echoing gunshots, rushing footsteps. But as he began to fade into the darkness, the only sound that mattered were, 'I love you too.'

**If you're depressed by this story then check out my one-shot 'Spilled Beans, Pinkie Promises and Crazy Careers,' it will cheer you up!**

**Did the ending disappoint or please you? Tips for the future?**

**Anyway, just the epilogue now. It's unusual. Maybe you'll like it, maybe you won't.**

**-ChlocaCola**


	6. Epilogue

**Author's Note: This is the last instalment of this story. Thank you for all your support, praise and encouragement! Enjoy!**

**Disclaimer: Disclaimed.**

'And apparently, at night on December the 7th, her ghost rampages the cemetery, tormenting anyone stupid enough to be here.' One boy concluded his creepy story, face illuminated by his flashlight and a dying fire.

Teenagers sat cramped in the old caretaker's storeroom at the back of the local cemetery, puffing on cigarettes and gulping vodka.

'What's so special about December the 7th?' Julia enquired, perplexed. Darren's stories got crazier and crazier.

'It's the anniversary of their deaths.' Darren's voice was an eerie whisper.

'That weirdo deserved it.' Eric remarked, but another person spoke over him, 'No, no. You're telling it wrong.'

'Am I now?' Darren, the boy with the flashlight asked, slightly angry.

The girl stuck her nose in the air and argued, 'Yes.' Then she corrected, 'The woman didn't set fire to herself, she drowned herself in the bath.'

'It's still suicide either way.' Darren countered.

'And you were exaggerating _way_ too much.' Cassie, the arguing girl continued, 'her charred body didn't rot for weeks, she was found a few hours later.' Cassie smirked. She loved proving Darren wrong.

'Yes she did!' Darren snapped.

Cassie replied, 'you're just trying to make a scary story. But it's all bullshit! If she only married this guy because he threatened her, then why would she get depressed after his death? It doesn't make sense. They were obviously in love,' her voice had taken a slightly dreamy quality as she said, 'death tore them apart, but then it brought them back together.'

The other teenagers chuckled and mocked the girl, 'Aww, is little Cassie sticking up for a psycho woman in a twisted 'love' story.'

Cassie shrunk into the corner, blushing slightly. Why didn't she keep her mouth shut?

'You always ruin a good horror story with your romance shit.' Darren snapped, though it didn't sound as fierce when his voice was slurring.

Eric chipped in, 'I see some people go the gravestones every now and then. It's mostly that hot woman.'

'Oh yeah, that's the sister.' One girl added her knowledge.

'How d'you know?' Some people turner on her, wanting more information.

She hesitated for dramatic effect, the alcohol giving her confidence, but it seemed a little anti-climactic when she said, 'I live a few houses away from where they used to live.'

Even so, this got everyone excited, asking all sorts of questions.

'What did they look like?'

'Did you see her set fire to herself?'

'It wasn't a damn fire jerk!'

Maisie, the girl who lived a few houses away from the newly occupied house, sighed. 'I don't know, they died ten years ago, I would have been like six or something. And my parents never talk about it.'

'Don't you know _anything_?' One curious boy, Marcus, pried, wanting more information.

Maisie thought hard, and again paused before saying, 'Well, one day I heard a bit of my parents conversation-'

'That's a surprise, weren't they arguing again?' Darren couldn't miss up the opportunity to add the joke, but Maisie ignored him.

'Mom said, 'poor woman. Walking in to visit you're sister and finding her drowned.'

'Ha, I was right.' Cassie interjected, pointing a finger at Darren but he slapped it away.

'My Dad replied, 'she'd been unstable for a whole year, ever since Edward died.' Mom had sighed sadly, 'Abby was such a lovely woman, always cheerful.' I didn't understand what they were talking about until recently.' Maisie finished.

'Edward and Abby. Those names ring a bell,' Marcus mumbled, a cigarette in one hand.

As soon as Marcus muttered the words, every set of eyes were on him, pressuring him into sharing his part of the tale. Searching through his foggy mind, Marcus struggled to find the information that seemed familiar.

'Oh yeah,' he drawled, trying to formulate speech, 'she went crazy after the guy died. Slit her wrists, isolated herself and pushed all her friends and family away. She never went out,' his voice took on an eerie quality, 'only on Monday's she'd come right here, to this graveyard.'

'It's haunted, this place is,' Darren's voice was excited, he was glad it had turned into a horror story again. 'I can feel it.' Then he smirked mischievously, 'maybe she'll torment us tonight because we're talking about them.'

Cassie threw a glove at him warning, 'stop it, your scaring me.'

Darren shifted towards her, 'You can cuddle with me if you want. I'll make you feel safe.'

Pushing him away, Cassie rolled her eyes. 'I'd rather get attacked by a crazy ghost.'

Darren sunk into the corner of the shed, sulking.

'So, you guys are telling us that this Edward bloke died, his wife went mental, then a year later she self-harmed and killed herself?' Eric's voice was sceptical, not believing the tale.

'Then her sister found this Abby woman drowned a few hours later. And then she buried her next to her dead husband?' Julia asked, beginning to doubt the story. Nothing exciting ever happened in this town, so something like this would never happen. Would it?

'It's true!' Darren bickered, 'apparently there were two fresh cuts on her arm.' He pointed to a place on his arm that he guessed was the correct position and pretended he was cutting his arm with his finger.

'And the words were what?' Maisie asked impatiently.

'_I'm free_.' Darren finished slowly.

'Free from what?' Eric exclaimed.

'Well, when my hamster died when I was eleven, I was pretty upset for a week or so,' Cassie explained, 'so maybe she wanted to escape the misery and the pain.'

'Maybe she was schizophrenic and she'd started seeing ghosts!' Marcus interposed, sounding giddy.

'Stop making fun! It's a serious story!' Maisie snapped.

Julia was perplexed, 'how come this story isn't spread around loads though?'

'They were really secretive apparently,' Cassie inserted, 'no one knew much about them.'

'Maybe they were ninja's! Or unicorns! Or some spies or some crazy shit like that,' Marcus joked, but stopped when Maisie glared at him.

'Sounds legit,' Eric mocked sarcastically.

'Whether you believe it or not, it's true.' Darren said, not letting his story being passed off as fake, even though he'd made most of it up. But the foundations were true, that much he knew.

'I don't know…' Julia sounded unsure.

Cassie shivered as the last embers of the fire burnt out, as if signalling story time was over.

What the teenagers didn't know was that most of the story that they'd put together was mostly correct.

You could say that Abby and Edward were re-united. But really, inside, they'd never been apart.

People come and go. They're born into this world with a definite conclusion of inevitable death. We all live different lengths; some don't even get to say their first words and others get to see it all. Everyone experience different passing's; some slow and painful, others quick and peaceful.

But one thing that doesn't die, even when some people try to deny or repress it, is true love.

Abby and Edward were in each other's hearts all the way, so they were never separated.

_Until death do us part._

And not even then, because true love is immortal.

**The End!**

**I hope you liked this story, even if it was really sad. **

**Thank you so much for all the lovely reviews I love you all!**

**~ChlocaCola**


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